


Stay Still

by thudworm



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Facial Shaving, First Kiss, Injured Steve, Lap Sitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thudworm/pseuds/thudworm
Summary: Steve is injured on a mission, and can’t get rid of the damn itchy beard he grew while stuck in the middle of nowhere. Tony offers his assistance.
Relationships: Edwin Jarvis & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619530
Comments: 1
Kudos: 88
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Stay Still

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Stay Still  
> Collaborator Name: @thudworm  
> Card Number: 3093  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229390  
> Square Filled: R5- Stay Still  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  
> Rating: Mature  
> Major Tags: facial shaving, lap sitting, injured Steve, first kiss  
> Summary: Steve is injured on a mission, and can’t get rid of the damn itchy beard he grew while stuck in the middle of nowhere. Tony offers his assistance.  
> Word Count: 1,179

If someone asked Steve what the worst part about spending more than two weeks in the ass-end of Siberia was, he knew they would assume his answer would be that it reminded him of his time in the ice. Which it did, and not in a good way, but the real rock bottom was the frostbite. The medic on the extraction team had ordered him straight to SHIELD Medical, who lectured him for what felt like an hour about how lucky he was. Anyone else spending so much time in temperatures that low without protective gear would have lost their fingers, but with the healing factor from the serum he’d be as good as new after a few uncomfortable days. Back in the war, Steve had seen firsthand the damage frostbite could do to a person, which was why he’d given up his gloves for one of the hostages he and the Strike Team had been sent in to rescue.

He didn’t regret it for a second, but that didn’t mean he was happy with his current situation. His fingers and hands were so heavily bandaged he may as well have been wearing mittens. Which meant he couldn’t scratch his itchy as hell beard, much less get rid of the cursed thing by shaving it off once he returned home. 

Sitting through the debriefing was hell. All he wanted to do was find his way to his own bed and sleep for a week, after eating his body weight in food. Instead, he had to give a full verbal report of every detail of the two-week long mission, because writing or typing it himself was currently beyond his capabilities.

It was a relief to finally make it back home to the Avengers Tower. 

“Welcome home, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS greeted as he stepped into the elevator. “Shall I take you to your floor?”

“It’s good to be home, JARVIS. Take me to the communal floor. The food in Medical was horrible, and I’m starving.”

“Of course.”

Staring into the fridge, Steve was faced with a problem. The bandages on his hands meant anything that required much preparation was out of the question. In the end, he settled for some of Clint’s leftover takeout, because all it required was a few minutes in the microwave, which JARVIS could control for him. 

With some difficulty, he managed to grab a fork from the cutlery drawer, and while he waited for the microwave to finish he was struck with a thought. Holding the fork between his palms, he brought it up to his face and used it to scratch his beard. 

He groaned in relief. He was too busy enjoying how good it felt to not be quite so itchy to notice when Tony walked into the kitchen, but the sudden laughter was a bit of a tip off.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” Tony asked through giggles.

Steve refused to be embarrassed. He’d seen much worse behaviour from some of his teammates, like the time Clint knocked himself out with his own bow, or when a sleep-deprived Tony had walked straight into a wall.

“It’s been a while since I did it for someone else, but I can help you shave, if you want.” 

Steve brushed off Tony’s offer. He wasn’t interested in pity. “I can suffer through the next few days until my hands heal, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll scratch you face off if you keep using a goddamn fork. Just let me help you. If you can’t rely on your teammates, then what’s the point of even having a team?” 

Tony, damn him, was right. “Fine. Just let me know when you’re available.”

“I’m free right now, Cap.”

Steve let Tony lead him to the penthouse bathroom, with a small detour through the dining room so Tony could drag a chair along with them. The chair was plonked in the middle of the spacious bathroom, and Steve didn’t argue when Tony commanded him to sit.

Tony started poking through the vanity, apparently unable to decide which products he wanted to use for this, but eventually he settled on a jar that looked identical to all the rest. He fully expected Tony to use a disposable razor; or, no, an electric one with all sorts of fancy extras and attachments. But instead, Tony pulled out a straight razor, much like the one Steve himself used. Steve obviously failed to hide his surprise, because Tony gave him a knowing look. 

“Back when I first started shaving, I only had access to disposable razors, so that’s what I used,” Tony explained. “Then, I came home from boarding school for the summer, and Jarvis had to restrain himself from setting fire to the thing.” 

Steve obviously didn’t know much about the Stark’s butler, but if his AI counterpart is anything like the man, he could easily imagine the stern disapproval he’d show such an inferior object.

Tony continued. “The very next day he bought me my own shaving kit with a straight razor, and taught me how to use it. I haven’t looked back since. Especially when I decided to go with the van dyke. Much easier to do the fine shaping, keep the lines crisp.”

Any response Steve might have had was cut off by Tony shoving the soaped-up shaving brush in his face. Once his face was fully lathered, Tony paused with the razor in his hand and a contemplative look on his face, which made Steve nervous. 

“You’re too tall,” Tony said with a huff. “I’m not gonna be able to reach all the angles properly, not without nicking you. Unless…” Tony trailed off, then did something Steve was not expecting at all. He sat in his lap, straddling his legs, and began to work.

When Steve’s brain came back online, he realised the other people Tony had spoken about having done this with must have been his past lovers, and he had to fight down a sudden wave of jealousy. 

He also had to fight down his arousal. Having Tony so close, sitting right in his lap, was stirring some interest. He tried to shift slightly in his chair, just enough to keep his  _ interest _ from rubbing against Tony, but his attempt was not as subtle as he’d hoped. 

“Stay still,” Tony demanded. “I don’t want to cut you, even if your skin will heal in a matter of minutes, unlike the rest of us mere mortals.”

Steve froze. The best he could hope for now was that if Tony noticed he’d ignore it, dismiss it as a natural reaction and not make an embarrassing deal about it. 

It felt like an age, during which he barely took a breath, before Tony declared he was done. But Tony didn’t make a move to get off of Steve’s lap. He just sat there, staring into his eyes. Steve couldn’t have said which one of them it was who made the first move, one second they were staring at each other, the next they were kissing.


End file.
